Have A Seat, Son
by FaithTrustAndALittlePixieDust
Summary: A series of one-shots about the boyfriend meeting the father. There'll be various characters. Now we have Ron and Mr. Granger. "George Weasley sat, in a tux, cleaning  a machine gun."
1. Scorpius Malfoy vs Ron Weasley

**Sorry in advance for any grammatical or spelling errors.**

Rose and Scorpius sat on the couch, a foot apart. She kept reaching out to grab his hand, but Scorpius didn't dare touch her. Ron was always watching.

Scorpius was terrified to say the least. Mr. Weasley was an auror. He had defeated Voldemort. He was six feet tall. He was bloody terrifying.

"Scorpius, a word in the study?" Ron pushed open the kitchen door and placed his hands on the back of the couch, his knuckles going white.

Scorpius, looking very green, gulped. He stood up slowly, wiping his sweaty palms on his jeans. He didn't think he'd ever been this nervous in his life.

"Daddy, give me your wand." Rose held out her hand, turning to face her father.

Ron ignored her.

"Can I come too?" Hugo asked brightly, swallowing a cookie and shuffling into the living room. Rose glared at her little brother.

"No." Ron said flatly. "And don't eat all of those. I want some." Hugo gave a thumbs up and collapsed next to his sister on the couch.

Ron slung his arm around Scorpius's shaking shoulders, his hand firmly steering them towards the study. Scorpius cast a terrified look back at his girlfriend who gave him what she hoped to be a reassuring smile. This did nothing to calm him.

Ron held open the very, solid mahogany door to the study and gestured for Scorpius to step inside. _No one would be able to hear his screams through that door_, Scorpius thought and nearly started crying.

"Take a seat." Ron sat himself at the desk, leaning back in the leather chair, his hands folded. Scorpius nervously sat in the armchair. He ran his hands through his unruly, overgrown blonde hair. _Be a man, Scorpius._

Before Ron could start, Scorpius said. "Mr. Weasley, I love your daughter and I would never do anything, ever, to hurt her." His voice shook.

Ron disregarded this comment and began his speech, which he had been planning since the day Rose was born. "I don't like you, Mr. Malfoy."

"With all do respect, sir," He couldn't believe he was being this bold. "I think you dislike my father. And I don't like to associate myself with him very much, Mr. Weasley, sir. So, if you could pretend just for a moment that my last name isn't Malfoy. I know that's asking for a whole lot, but I really just want you to talk to me as Scorpius."

"That's fair, Scorpius." Ron pursed his lips. "But you understand that doesn't change that I don't think you're good enough for her."

"Mr. Weasley, sir, I completely agree."

Ron was not expecting this response. He opened his mouth and closed it again, trying to think of something to say. But, Scorpius beat him to the chase.

"I know I'm not good enough for Rosie. You don't need to tell me." He laughed nervously. "But I'm trying. I really am. You have to understand just how much I love her. She means everything to me."

"You're sixteen."

"You were much younger, if what Rose tells me is correct, when you fell in love."

Ron was at a loss for words again. For as nervous as this kid looked, he sure had a way with words. Ron didn't have responses prepared for Scorpius's retorts.

"Am I being rude?" Scorpius blushed right up to the tips of his ears and quite suddenly Ron developed a little soft spot for the kid. He saw a little bit of his awkward, fifteen year old self in Scorpius. "Oh gosh. I'm sorry, Mr. Weasley. I didn't mean to be. I just... I'm so bloody nervous. Bloody hell."

"It's okay, Scorpius." Ron said. "It's nothing personal, nothing about your surname or lack of freckles, it's just well…I think you can understand how much I love Rose?" He cocked an eyebrow and Scorpius nodded his head up and down furiously. "It's nothing personal to you. I can't like you. I can't like the bloke that's with my Rose. I just can't. But you wouldn't do anything to hurt her, would you Scorpius?"

Scorpius shook his head, his gray eyes wide. "Never, sir. I never would. I want to protect her from everything. She think I'm annoyingly overprotective." Scorpius lowered his voice and leaned in a bit closer to Ron. "But. you'd agree with me, sir? Wouldn't you? That she really ought to wear a coat when it's cold out? And she shouldn't walk around Hogsmeade by herself. Mr. Weasley, I'm always nervous something might happen to her, I think you can understand that?"

"I can understand that perfectly, Scorpius. I completely agree." Ron leaned forward. Scorpius was beginning to grow on him. Just a little bit. It wasn't like he _liked_ him. No, that'd be crazy. But he didn't hate him so much anymore.

Scorpius wanted to wrap this conversation up before he said something wrong. "Mr. Weasley, I love her so much and I just want her to be happy and warm and safe. And I know I'm not good enough, but I promise I would never do anything to hurt her."

Ron nodded his head, satisfied with the response.

"I don't know about you, but I'm starving…" Ron pushed himself up and Scorpius hopped eagerly to his feet. "Let's head to dinner."

Scorpius reached for the door, but Ron grabbed his arm.

"I forgot something, Scorpius."

"Yes, sir."

"Just don't forget, Rose has a _lot_ of family members who would _kill_ for her. And you know what they say about people with red hair."

"Tempers. I know. Rosie has one." Scorpius gave a lopsided grin.

"Quit looking so nervous," Ron said, giving a blushing Scorpius a thump on the back.

_This had gone completely wrong_, Ron thought. _Scorpius was supposed to be crying. He wasn't supposed to like the Malfoy kid. Bloody Hell. _

"How about the Chudley Cannons game last night, Mr. Weasley? They played pretty well, huh?" Scorpius started. "But if you ask me, Viktor Krum really needs to retire. He was never really good anyways. Always has a smug look on his face."

Ron grinned.

**Please, please review. This is the first in many more to come. They'll all just be one-shots of father to boyfriend conversations. I hope you guys like this. Review with who you want me to do next. **

**PLEASE REVIEW**

**XOXO**


	2. George Weasley and Machine Gun

**Thank you so much to everyone that reviewed the first chapter. It made my day!**

**Sorry for any mistakes. **

Roxanne and her boyfriend, Henry Rogers, kicked off their muddy shoes at the door, laughing. They had been playing a game of one on one Quidditch in the backyard, but it had started to torrentially down pour.

George Weasley, wearing a tuxedo, sat on the couch, cleaning a machine gun.

Henry immediately fell silent, dropping his hold on Roxanne's waist.

This wasn't Henry's first time at the Weasley household, but it was the first time George had been home, rather than at one of the joke shops.

"Mr. Rogers, let's go have a chat in the parlor. You can leave your wand here." George set down the gun on the coffee table, straightening his tie. Henry gulped.

Angelina smothered a fit of giggles from where she stood in the doorway to the kitchen. Her husband was _loving _this.

"Dad! Stop trying to scare him!" Roxanne protested, her long orange hair coming out the ponytail she had pulled it into earlier. "We don't even have a parlor! And where did you get that gun? And why are you wearing a tux?" She turned towards her tall, dark haired boyfriend, placing a hand on his Quidditch toned arm, "He's just trying to scare you. You can keep your wand."

But Henry Rogers pulled his wand out of his pocket and placed it on the coffee table beside the machine gun, following his girlfriend's father out of the room. He turned back to grin goofily at her, making a funny face and crossing his eyes. She sighed with a smile, blowing a piece of hair out of her face and mouthed "good luck." She was so head over heels for him.

Henry followed George out of the living room, down the hallway and into what Henry knew was Roxanne's bedroom.

"This is the parlor." George grinned, opening his arms wide, presenting his daughter's extremely messy bedroom.

"Oh, Mr. Weasley." Henry feigned amazement, his hand flying to his heart. "This is the loveliest parlor I've ever seen. I love the way you've decorated. So _classy_."

"I most certainly agree, Henry. I picked out this lovely purple myself," slapped the deep purple wall.

"Excellent choice, Mr. Weasley." Henry seated himself on the edge of Roxy's bed, rubbing the palms of his hands on his jeans.

George, loosening his tie, leaned on his daughter's dresser. He cocked an eyebrow at Henry, "Well it sure seems like you feel pretty comfortable in my _parlor_. Do you frequent here often?"

"Eh. Not usually. Especially not this." Henry shrugged and gave Roxanne's bed a pat. He knew what answers Mr. Weasley was getting at. "I'm not with your daughter for that one thing most fathers' think is the only thing on a sixteen year old boy's mind, Mr. Weasley."

"Glad to hear it, Henry." George smiled. He liked this kid. He was witty and smooth. "Quick! What's her favorite color?" George suddenly chucked Roxanne's sneakscope at him.

Henry dove off the bed to catch it, landing face first on the wooden floors. His nose started to bleed. He pushed himself up and waved the sneakscope at Mr. Weasley. "That was close. Good thing I'm a keeper, eh?" Henry gave an easy smile, dimples and all, hopping to his feet. "And it's green right now, though it was purple last week. It's always changing."

"Right you are, Mr. Rogers. Here, I'll clean that up for you." George nodded towards Henry's bloody nose, reaching into the pocket of his jacket for his wand.

"No!" Henry caught Mr. Weasley's wand arm. "You like a good joke, Mr. Weasley, right?"

"That I do."

"And do you know what would _really _set Roxy off?"

"Are you saying you enjoy taunting my daughter, young man?" George accused.

Henry peered back at him and said in the same accusing tone. "Why yes, yes I am, Mr. Weasley. It's one of my most favorite past times. We both like a good laugh."

George smiled. Henry had all the right answers.

"As I was saying, what'd really tick off Rox is if we pretend like this conversation went horribly. Let's say you hit me, maybe we'll go grab that machine gun and set it off a couple times. Just for kicks. I can cry on command too."

"I like you!" George thumped Henry on the back.

"Thanks, Mr. Weasley. I like you a lot too."

Mr. Weasley placed his daughter's sneakscope on her dresser. It wasn't buzzing; at least this kid could be trusted. George felt like he hadn't been intimidating enough in this conversation; then again, he hadn't expected Henry to have a sense of humour.

"Henry?"

"Yes, Mr. Weasley?" Henry looked up from the picture he was looking at on Roxanne's bedside table.

"Don't hurt her, okay? She can't laugh at everything."

"I know, sir. She has a lot of cousins and uncles who wouldn't hesitate to use an unforgivable on me." Henry grinned and ran a hand through his wavy black hair. "And I know this may seem a bit strong coming from a sixteen year old boy, but," He looked nervous for the first time since they had come into her bedroom. "Roxy's the first girl, I've ever felt this strongly for. And I know we're still really young, and I'm just some goofy kid that you don't expect to stick around for long. But I'd like to be here for awhile. And I haven't dropped the 'l-word' yet, but I know I feel it."

Mr. Weasley thumped him on the back. "This may come as a surprise to you, but I love her too." George's hand flew to his mouth in mock surprise.

Henry smiled softly. "I know, Mr. Weasley. I promise I won't hurt her. And if I do, you can use that machine gun on me; shoot me in the leg or something."

"I'm going to warn you that I don't have very good aim. I could easily slip and blow off you head," George said quite seriously, but Henry caught onto the joke.

"I'll keep that in mind, Mr. Weasley."

George picked up his tie and shoved it in his pocket, then ushered Henry out of his daughter's bedroom. He slung an arm around Henry's shoulders. "You're a good kid, Henry."

Henry began to cry and George became very alarmed, then he remembered their scheme.

"Oh quit crying. I didn't hit you that hard!" George called loudly so that his wife and daughter could here.

"No! Please don't get the gun!"

"Mr. Rogers you may not see my daughter!"

"But, Mr. Weasley, sir!"

"Get out of my home!"

Roxanne came running into the hallway.

"Dad!" She screamed, running to her crying, bloodstained boyfriend's side. "What did you do to him?"

"I guess this is goodbye, Roxy…" Henry whispered tearfully. George winked at him.

"What? Dad! You can't forbid me from seeing him! You are awful! I can't believe you hit him! Daddy!" Roxanne stomped her foot and it was at that moment that George and Henry both fell to the ground, laughing hysterically.

"It's not funny! Why're you laughing?" It dawned on Roxanne that both her father and her boyfriend loved setting her off; that they were both jokesters and a slow grin turned up the corners of her mouth. She laughed. "You got me!"

George hopped to his feet, pulling up Henry. "Henry, I'd like to offer you a job at my joke shop. That was a beautiful performance."

"That sounds fantastic, Mr. Weasley!"

Roxanne gave her a father a smile and mouthed, "Thank you," before dragging Henry into the kitchen to clean up his face. She laced her fingers through his and grinned up at him. He pulled a funny face and kissed her quickly.

George leaned against the doorway, next to his wife.

She kissed him softly. "You know, George, they always say that daughters marry someone like their father."

George grinned and gave an approving nod as he heard something breaking in the kitchen, the distinct sound of someone being squirted with water, and his daughter's high pitched giggle. This Henry kid knew how to have fun.

**I hope you guys liked it. Please, please review with who I should do next. I want to an Arthur-Harry one, but I need more ideas.**

**Thank you for reviewing!**

**XOXO**


	3. Sugar Free

**Sorry this took a little while. I was trying to write an Arthur/Harry one but then I got writers block and I wrote this at three in the morning, just to tie you over until I'm done with the other one. Sorry if it's not very good. I tried.**

Mr. Granger studied the red headed young man across the table. He looked incredibly nervous. Hermione kept laying a hand on his bicep and whispering that it was going to be fine. Mr. Granger folded his napkin and laid it next to his dirty plate.

"Ron, why don't we go out back for a moment."

"Sure, Mr. Granger." Ron swallowed hard and pushed himself up from his chair. Mr. Granger did not miss the quick handhold between his daughter and Ron.

Ron followed Hermione's father out of the dining room. He ran a hand through his disheveled red hair. He was bloody nervous. Mr. Granger scared him. Ron had a good six inches on him, but he was still terrified.

Pushing open the back door, Mr. Granger walked onto the back deck, sitting down on the steps. Ron joined him.

"So you're in love with my daughter, Mr. Weasley." His big brown eyes, _Hermione's _eyes Ron thought, studied Mr. Weasley intently.

"Er-I, yes, Mr. Granger, sir. I do love her. More than I thought possible."

"Well I knew this day was going to come," He smiled wearily at the younger man. Ron had turned a little green. The kid looked like he was going to lose his dinner. Mr. Granger didn't think he was _that _frightening. "Ron, why're you so nervous? You look like you're going to throw up. I'm not that scary. I'm a dentist."

Ron gave a shaky laugh, rubbing his sweaty palms on his jeans. "I just want you to like me."

"You're in love with my daughter. I can't _really _like you." Mr. Granger gave a wry smile.

"I get that," said Ron, "But I'd like to try anyways."

"You know, Ron, it doesn't really matter whether I like you or not. What matters is that Hermione is in love with you and there isn't much I can do about that. And I'm not going to ruin it. I just got her back. I don't want her to send me to Australia again."

"She didn't want to, you know that, right? She cried." Ron ran a hand through his hair, his heart aching at the thought of tears streaming down Hermione's face. "She just wanted to protect you."

"She's awfully stubborn."

"I know."

"She gets it from her mother."

Mr. Granger peeled at the peeling white paint on the railing. "I always figured it'd be you or Harry. The way she talks about you two…"

"I always thought it'd be Harry." Ron confessed.

"I'm glad it ended up being you." Mr. Granger patted Ron on the back. And he meant it. He had met Harry before, and Harry seemed like a nice kid, but there was something about the gangly, freckled, ginger young man that felt right with Hermione.

"I-er" Ron blushed all the way to the tips of his ears. "Er-thanks, Mr. Granger, sir."

Ron didn't know what to say. No one had _ever _said something like that to him before. Everyone always praised Harry. He was "the chosen one" after all. It was refreshing and comforting to hear that he was first choice for something. And suddenly Ron felt very warm inside.

"You're a good kid, Ron, and I know you'd do anything for my daughter," Mr. Granger gave a smile, "But she's my only one, so please don't hurt her."

"I won't"

"I'm a dentist you know. Lots of pointy tools."

"I believe you." Ron gulped again. He knew dentists cleaned people's teeth, but who knew what else they did? They could be assassins for all he knew. He'd have to ask Hermione later.

Mr. Granger looked up at the cotton candy colored summer sky, the setting sun slowly sliding behind the clouds. Ron studied his trainers.

"Ron." Mr. Granger said, spinning around to face him. "For the record, I like you a lot better than that Krum kid."

"She brought home Krum!" Ron's voice came out high and strangled.

Mr. Granger sensed that he'd hit a touchy subject and decided to back off. He lied smoothly. "No of course not. I just met him once. He was very grumpy and serious. I didn't like him much."

"Yeah, me either." Ron said gruffly. "Horribly wrong for Hermione. Bloody awful guy. Total scum bag. Stupid show off. Awful at Quidditch. Couldn't even pronounce her name. Don't know what she saw in that—"

Mr. Granger cut him off there. "Ron. I don't think you need to worry about him, okay? Why don't we go get some dessert? Hermione tells me you have a bottomless stomach."

Ron hopped to his feet, eager for something sweet.

Then he remember they were dentists.

Needless to say, sugar free cake was rather disgusting.

**I don't think anyone understands just how happy a review makes me. It literally makes my day when I login and see that "Review Alert" email in my inbox. So please.**

**I promise Arthur and Harry is coming up, I'm just kind of stuck. Give me some ideas.**

**XOXO**


	4. Teddy vs Bill Weasley

**Sorry if there's any mistakes.**

**Thanks a million to all of you who read and reviewed and favorited and alerted this story. It means so much.**

Teddy and Victoire were snogging on the couch, her silky, blonde hair falling in a waterfall around them, Teddy's big, calloused hands knotted in it. His hair was rapidly changing from turquoise to brown to red. The soft, knit throw they had been cuddled in earlier, lay in a pile on the ground along with an assortment of cushions, Victoire's shirt and the book which Teddy had abandoned when his girlfriend had sat down next to him.

They thought no one else was home.

They were wrong.

Bill coughed loudly from where he stood in the doorway to the living room. This was not the first time he had caught them sucking each others' faces. And honestly, it didn't bother him _all _that much, but it was getting a little old. He just wanted to tell them to keep it in their pants.

His scantily clad daughter, on top of Teddy, glanced up at her father, pulling her curtain of hair out of her face and grinned sheepishly.

"Control yourselves." Bill rolled his eyes. Victoire's guilty, dimpled, "I'm so sorry" grins had lost their affect on him ages ago.

Teddy blushed bright red and pushed Victoire off of him, throwing the blanket over her nearly naked torso and wrapping it tightly around her thin shoulders.

Bill continued, his arms crossed, "Are you two trying to give me a heart attack?"

"Sorry, Daddy."

"Won't happen again, Mr. Weasley."

"Liars. That's what you said last time." Bill grinned. "Vic, go put some clothes on. Teddy, I think it's time we had a little chat."

Teddy gulped.

Yes, he had known Bill Weasley his entire life. He had babysat his children. He had learned how to fly a broom with him and Harry in the Potter's backyard. He'd had his tenth birthday party at their house. Heck, he'd nearly _burnt down_ their house. He had spent every Christmas, Thanksgiving, Easter, Halloween, and New Year's with him. Bill had bought him his snowy white owl. He had been the one to bring Teddy to St. Mungo's when he had broken his collarbone tripping down the stairs. Teddy had cried in front of him. Teddy gave him _father's_ day cards and now he was dating his daughter.

He was his family, like an uncle, which only made this even stranger. Sometimes, when he was lying awake in his bed, he'd think that it was all rather odd—his dating Victoire—she was practically his sister. But, no. Sisters didn't make your legs feel like jell-o or butterflies erupt in your stomach or your cheeks flush or your heart break into little pieces when they cried. Sisters didn't kiss you like Victoire did. His feelings towards her were definitely not sisterly, even if his ones towards her mother and father were parental.

Teddy hopped up and followed Bill into the kitchen where he helped himself to a glass of chocolate milk, fishing around in the drawer for a straw.

"Sit down, Teddy. Want some steak?"

"How's it cooked?"

"Rare. Who do you think I am?" Billy smiled wryly.

He and Teddy had always bonded over that little bit of werewolf in them.

Mr. Weasley set about heating up the steak in the kitchen and Teddy watched him, sipping his milk thoughtfully. He wasn't all that sure what Bill was going to say to him. It was making him nervous. He rubbed his sweaty palms on his jeans.

"So, Ted, we need to have a little chat about my daughter."

"Okay." Teddy said shakily. His hair turning to a mousy brown, it's natural color, as it always did when he was nervous. Teddy's hair made it pretty easy to read his emotions.

"Don't look so scared, Teddy. I only get savage when the Chudley Cannons lose."

Bill pushed a plate of meat towards Teddy and leaned on the counter. "Teddy, you know I've loved you since the day you were born. But now that you're with Vic, you have to be thought of as less of a son and more of 'one of those boys'"

Teddy swallowed before replying. "I know, Mr. Weasley. But I promise I won't break her heart. You know I've been in love with her since I was twelve." He scratched the back of his neck sheepishly.

"Teddy, if you hurt her, I'll hurt you. It's quite simple."

"I know, Mr. Weasley."

And, Merlin, he did. Teddy was usually a part of the "Scare Vic's Boyfriends" committee. He knew what happened to "one of those boys," and it was quite painful. When Roger Davies broke her heart at the end of fifth year he had been the one that gave him that shiner. He'd been the one who'd made George Watson cry. He'd been there for every bofriend. All the tears, all the gallons of chocolate ice cream and the raw cookie dough, all the meet the parents dinners. Teddy didn't ever want to be the cause of Victoire being upset.

"Since when do you call me 'Mr. Weasley'? I'm still Bill, Teddy." Bill smiled. "I worry about you too, you know? Vicky's a heart breaker."

"I still love her."

"You plan on marrying her?"

Teddy hesitated before answering, a slow, one dimpled smile turning up the corners of his mouth. His hair turned turquoise. "Yes, Bill, I think I plan on doing just that."

"Damn."

"What?"

"I owe George ten galleons"

Teddy rolled his eyes and got up to place his dish in the sink. _Classic Weasley family to turn the lives of their children into a bet. _

"I'm taking that as my permission to ask for her hand in marriage."

Bill took a sip of Teddy's milk and studied the gangly young man leaning against his granite counter tops.

Teddy said, "You know I'm not going to hurt her. And I love her. And I'm well aware that you've been attacked by a werewolf and get strangely vicious at times and might injure me."

"Pretty much covers it." Bill grinned. "Just one more thing."

"Yes?"

"Next time you decide to have a little snogging session, don't do it while I'm home. It's getting kind of old."

Teddy blushed and went to step towards the door. He tripped on his shoelace and fell in a pile on the cold, tile floors. _Bloody klutzy genes._

"We need to get your equilibrium checked out." Bill chuckled.

"We did three years ago." Teddy smiled from where he was sprawled on the tile floor. "They thought I had a brain tumor. I don't. Just clumsy."

**Well here it is. Sorry, that ended a bit abruptly. I just wanted to thank you guys so much for reviewing. My day gets ten times better every time I see a new one. I have a James and Mr. Evans one written out, I'm just going over it for spelling and such, so that should be up soon too. I love you guys.**

**Don't forget to click on that little button. I'll update really quickly if you do.**

**XOXO**


	5. Let's Just Pretend Like We Did

**Sorry, it's been awhile. **

Mr. Weasley approached the kitchen door and gulped.

He did _not_ want to be doing this.

But, Molly was Molly, and when she told you to do something with that look on her face and her hands on her hips, you didn't disagree.

Arthur pushed open the door.

Harry and Ginny were washing the dishes the muggle way, their wands having been confiscated that morning at breakfast because they had put a severe cheering charm on Ron, who had been in awful mood because he had gotten very little sleep the night before, having been otherwise preoccupied with a certain brown haired girl. Ron had danced around the kitchen for a good twenty minutes before his family had realized that this behavior was abnormal.

Young Mr. Potter and Arthur's daughter were splashing each other with the soapy water, talking and laughing loudly, the sink full of bubbles and lathered up dishes.

"Harry, mind if I have a word?" Mr. Weasley said softly, leaning against the doorway.

Ginny jumped, realizing her father was in the room. "Gin, mum was looking for you. Something about dress robes."

Ginny whipped around, her long red hair swinging and soapy water all over the front of her thin blue shirt. "Dad. You are _not _giving Harry 'the talk'" She said fiercely.

Mr. Weasley breathed a sigh of relief. "Fine. I won't." And he was about to turn around and march out of the kitchen when a picture of a stern Molly Weasley, wagging her finger at him popped into his head. He changed his mind. Molly would scold him if he did not give this talk.

"Ginny, I'm not going to scare him. I only have one daughter. It's a once in a life time opportunity."

Ginny huffed but stalked out of the kitchen.

Drying his hands on a checkered dish towel, Harry turned to face his best friend's father. Mr. Weasley looked a lot more nervous than Harry did.

"Hi, Harry."

"Hi, Mr. Weasley, can I help you with something?"

"Yes, Harry. I just wanted to have a little chat about Ginny." Arthur, awkwardly fiddled with the neck of his robes. He pulled out a chair at the breakfast table and beckoned for Harry, who was leaning causally against the sink, to join him.

"Mr. Weasley, I love her more than anything and I—"

"And you'd do nothing to hurt her." Mr. Weasley finished, a soft smile playing on his lips. "I know, Harry. You don't have to convince me."

"But, Mr. Weasley, I know I've hurt her in the past and I just wanted you to know that I'll never do that again. Ever. I'm not going anywhere."

"I know you'd do anything for her," Arthur leaned in close. "And just between you and me, you're the only one I'd trust her with. This er- talk wasn't my idea. I don't think it's necessary. But you know Molly…"

"I'll tell her you gave me a 'stern talking to'" Harry grinned.

"That's good. Tell her I-er- threatened you. Yeah, that'll be good. You know, Molly really ought to have been the one giving this talk…"

Harry studied the man in front of him. His bald spot had grown and his freckled face had gotten thinner since the war had ended. Losing a son had taken a toll on him. It had taken a toll on everyone. No one really laughed anymore. The house felt empty with only one twin.

"And I know she has six older brothers who wouldn't hesitate to hurt me." Harry grinned. Ron would murder him in his sleep if he ever did anything to his sister.

"Five." Mr. Weasley corrected, his blue eyes filling with tears.

"Six." Harry said fiercely. "Just because Fred is dead doesn't mean he isn't here. He'll always be here."

Mr. Weasley gave a shaky breathe and began playing with the salt and pepper shakers. Harry picked at the peeling paint on his chair. It was a good five minutes before either of them spoke.

"Harry, I've always thought of you as a son," Mr. Weasley gave Harry a pat on the back, "But if you er- HURT MY DAUGHTER! I WON'T HESITATE TO…" he trailed off and grinned sheepishly. "Eh, I figured I'd give it a shot. Yelling at you doesn't seem quite right though."

A look passed between the two of them, saying all the unspoken feelings. The apologies for all the trouble, the thanks for keeping an eye on Ron, the extreme gratitude for how many times he had saved their lives, the appreciation for treating him like a son, the sorrow for Fred, the embarrassment at catching Ginny and Harry in the compromising position in the chicken coop.

"ARTHUR! Why don't I hear any yelling?" Mrs. Weasley called from the other side of the door.

Mr. Weasley gulped and turned to Harry, panic written all over his face. Harry quickly began to yell.

"BUT MR. WEASLEY, SIR! I'm like your son!"

"BUT SHE'S MY DAUGHTER!"

They both grinned.

"Well that should do it, Harry. It's been a great talk."

**I did my best on this and I think I like it. I feel like Arthur wouldn't give the talk unless Molly forced him to and I feel like Harry would get that. They know each other so well. Pretty please review. It'd make my day. Give me the next one you want to see. I'm working on James and Mr. Evans, but I'm not sure I like it enough to post it just yet.**

**XOXO**

**Review please.**


	6. James vs Mr Evans

**Sorry in advance for any spelling or grammatical mistakes.**

James Potter ran a hand through his unruly black hair and pushed his glasses higher up on his nose. He was bloody terrified, to say the least.

Sirius had wanted to come with him, which James had, of course, said no to. Mr. Black had protested saying he would need his protection, that if Mr. Evans had Lily's temper he'd "surely be a goner!" James chose to ignore these outbursts, as he was already nervous enough. Sirius was seriously an idiot. He was completely emotionally incompetent. Couldn't he see that James was about to lose it?

The maroon front door suddenly swung open and Lily Evans, in a flash of long, wavy red hair and limbs, flung herself at James who she hadn't seen since school had gotten out in June. It had been four whole weeks and she'd missed him.

Mr. Potter stumbled backwards, dropping the flowers he had brought for her mother. He wrapped her tightly in his warm arms and spun in a circle, his glasses askew, as he breathed in her delicate, flowery scent. It was so good to see her again.

"And you must be James."

Mr. Potter quickly untangled himself from Lily. She reached up, straightening James's glasses and grinned at her mother and father, standing in the doorway. "Mum, Dad, this is James Potter."

"Er—" James gave a goofy grin, "Hi Mr. and Mrs. Evans. I'm James. These are for you." He bent down to grab the flowers and handed them to her mother. And then firmly shook Mr. Evans's hand, looking him straight in the eye. "Mr. Evans." He nodded.

"Oh! Lilies! They're perfect James. How did you know they were my favorite?" Mrs. Evans exclaimed, pressing her nose to the bouquet, "Come on in."

James breathed a sigh of relief and Lily slipped her hand into his, smiling up at him.

James was in the kitchen helping Mrs. Evans get a crystal vase for the flowers down from a cabinet out of her reach, when a girl older than Lily with a pinched face and severely bony shoulders sauntered into the kitchen, tugging an overweight, walrus of a man after her.

James immediately knew them to be Petunia and Vernon. Lily didn't like to talk about her sister much, but when she did she ranted, for _hours_. And when Petunia was mentioned so was Vernon, whom Lily affectionately nicknamed "Vermin."

"Is this the one and only _James Potter_?" Petunia sneered, "The one who Lily despised until two minutes ago?"

"That's me." James flashed a smile, dimples and all, at her. He'd be civil.

She looked him up and down, taking in his loose jeans, pale blue shirt, tan skin, and messy black hair. She made a little "hmmp" sound. He was better looking than she had imagined. This only upset her more. "And you're a _freak_ too?"

Vernon sniggered, his face turning an unpleasant shade of violet. James wrinkled his nose. He looked like a blueberry with a mustache.

"Petunia! Don't be rude." Her mother chastised, filling the vase up with water from the tap.

"Oh, no, Mrs. Evans, it's fine. I understand—"

Just then Lily skipped into the kitchen, pulling her father after her. She had changed into a simple white sundress, her red hair pulled into a messy braid. James thought she looked stunning, then again, didn't she always?

"Tuney stop harassing James." Lily smiled sweetly at her sister. "If I'm nice to Vermi—_Vernon_, you have to be nice to James" Lily feigned innocence, but James knew that familiar devilish glint in her emerald eyes.

Petunia only pressed her thin lips together in an extremely unattractive expression and stalked out of the room. The whale followed her.

Mr. Evans had moved towards his wife, helping her rearrange the contents of the refrigerator so that the chocolate cake would fit. Once he was finished, he turned to face James and Lily who were talking softly with their heads close together, their hands intertwined; their hearts practically falling off their sleeves.

Mr. Evans coughed loudly. James immediately wrenched his hands out of Lily's grasp.

"Mr. Potter, why don't we go have a chat?"

James was normally overly confident. He was a people person. He was good with parents. He was charming and smart and friendly. He did not get _nervous _like this. But, Mr. Evans was terrifying him. He hadn't said a word to him, only shot him steely looks. James had a feeling he didn't have much of a sense of humor. This worried him a great deal. James's charm was all based on joking. He'd never felt so terrified in his life.

But then again, James had never felt like Lily made him. He'd never been in love before. And it was making him rather uneasy. He wanted the Evans to like him, but if they were anything like their daughter it was going to take them awhile to warm up to him. He didn't have another seven years to get the Evans to approve of him.

"Sure, Mr. Evans. Sounds great."

It sounded anything _but_ great. It sounded nauseating and scary.

Lily sensed her boyfriend's unease. She squeezed his hand quickly and whispered. "Don't be nervous, there's no way Daddy will like you less than Vermin." James grinned goofily at her and followed Mr. Evans out of the kitchen, into the living room, a pretty room with big windows and a brick fireplace.

"Oh look! It's a V.T! Lils talks about these all the time!" James exclaimed walking over to the television.

"_T.V, _short for television," Mr. Evans corrected. _How short was this kid's attention span?,_ he thought as James became extremely fascinated with an electrical outlet. "Have a seat, James."

James nervously perched himself on the edge of the overstuffed, floral couch. He rubbed his sweaty palms on his jeans and ruffled his hair. He felt like he was going to lose his lunch.

"So, James, you're in love with my daughter?"

"Lily, not Petunia." James smiled at his own joke.

Mr. Evans did not laugh.

"And you're the same James Potter who she's despised with a deep passion for the past six years?" Mr. Evans raised an eyebrow at the boy across from him.

James grinned uneasily and took a deep breathe. "I am, the infamous, 'Potter'" He sheepishly blushed and looked at his hands. He hadn't thought about that. That everything the Evans had probably heard of him was downright awful. He hadn't planned on how to handle that.

"So, what caused this change of heart? Last time I heard you were… 'an arrogant prat who didn't give a damn about anybody but yourself.'"

James gulped.

"Well, Mr. Evans, sir, I'm not all that sure honestly," James fiddled with his glasses. "I think maybe I was a bit too, er- forward with my feelings for Lily when we were younger. It was sort of love at first sight for me and I made sure she knew how I felt. I suppose I was pretty immature. And Merlin knows I like a good laugh. I think sometimes I took it too far."

"So, what's caused this sudden change in your maturity level?"

"Uh." James stumbled over his words. He didn't tell anyone this, only Lily and the Mauraders. "Um. Well."

"What is it?" Mr. Evans asked anxiously. He didn't like this kid. He couldn't form words properly, he touched his daughter too much and he had the attention span of a squirrel. He agreed whole heartedly with the Lily six months ago who had come home ranting about how awful "Potter" was. The Lily who had kicked a hole in the wall when she heard James was head boy. He did not understand what had changed her mind.

James took a shaky breathe but the minute he opened his mouth, his ability to form words stopped. He took another deep breathe. "Mr. Evans, my parents died five months and four days ago. It kind of puts things in a new light."

"Oh." Mr. Evans felt awful now. You couldn't intimidate, accuse, and be mean to a kid whose parents had just died. "I'm so sorry."

"You don't need to say that," James gave a watery smile; "I don't like to talk about it much."

"I really am sorry, James. That must be awfully hard."

James stared at his hands, chewing his lip furiously. He choked back a sob. He was crying in front of his girlfriend's father. _How embarrassing?_ And he didn't want Mr. Evans's pity. He wanted Mr. Evans to _like _him and not because he felt bad.

Mr. Evans handed him a box of tissues and placed a warm hand on James's shoulder. "Lily's my baby and you better treat her right."

"I understand, sir."

"And you can imagine my skepticism at hearing that the James Potter, the awful, annoying, horribly immature James Potter…she now wants to marry."

"I completely get where you're coming from, but I promise, Mr. Evans, sir, I love her so much. She's all I have. She's my family and I'm not going to let her slip away. I know she's far too good for me."

Mr. Evans gave a small smile, "I mean any boy who spends seven years trying to get my daughter to go out with them, must love her a lot. And at least I know your children will be better looking than Vernon and Petunia's."

The image of an ugly, rotund, blueberry of a baby with pinched lips and a hooked nose popped into his mind. He nearly burst out laughing. Yes, his and Lily's children would be much better looking.

**I hope you liked this! I don't know what I'm going to do next. I'm thinking Draco and Mr. Greengrass but I'm not sure. PLEASE REVIEW with any suggestions, complaints, anything. Seriously. You'll make me so happy.**

**XOXO**


	7. Remus Lupin vs Ted Tonks

**Thank you so much to everyone who has reviewed, favorited, or alerted this story. It means more than you can even imagine.**

**Sorry in advance for any spelling or grammatical mistakes.**

"Remus! Remus! Open up, Lupin! I know you're in there!"

Remus stared blankly at the fire. He'd been ignoring the pounding on his door for the past seventeen minutes. He supposed he didn't have much of a choice, so he pushed himself up slowly, setting his glass of firewhiskey on the coffee table. It was a little bit more than half full, but Lupin would have said it was half empty.

Ted Tonks stood in the doorway looking extremely capable of committing murder. He shoved his way past Remus into the apartment and took in the mess. He gave a sigh and planted himself on the leather couch.

"We need to talk, Lupin. Have a seat."

Remus remained quiet, but eased himself onto the couch.

"This has to stop."

"Wh-what?" He croaked. He gave a nasty cough and Ted thumped him on the back, studying him carefully. He looked awful, like he hadn't slept or seen the sun in weeks.

Last week had been the full moon and Mr. Lupin was still feeling pretty miserable. He'd caught a cold and developed a hacking cough and every muscle in his body ached. He felt _old. _It was an awful feeling. He was sick of the war and the fighting and the drama and everything right now. He was attempting to drown his troubles in firewhiskey and it wasn't working.

"You know what I'm talking about. It has to stop right now. You're ruining her. You're sucking all the life out of her."

"Ted…you know I'm not good for her."

"I know you aren't. Of course you aren't. But she seems to think so and you're in way over your head now. She's _pregnant, _Remus. You have to stop running away. You can't run away anymore. I know you love her so please come back and put her out of her misery."

"I love her so much. I'm just not good enough for her. She deserves so much more."

"She doesn't want more though, she wants _you_!"

"I have to make her see...that I'm just not fit to be a father."

"Well you are one." Ted smiled wearily, "And there's no convincing Dora. Her mind is set on you and that's not going to change. She's stubborn as hell and we both know it. So stop running. I'm ordering you to. I'm telling you, not giving you a choice, Lupin. You're coming back with me and you're going to tell my daughter how much of an idiot you've been and that you'll _never_ leave her again. And you _won't._ You're not going anywhere. You're stuck with us whether you like it or not. So go on get your things and stop drinking this bloody shit. It's disgusting and you're better than that." He picked up the cup of alcohol and dumped it on the carpet.

"Ted, I'm not coming back. She won't want me now anyways." Lupin watched as the whiskey seeped into the thick, maroon carpet.

"Haven't you been listening to anything I'm saying? She wants you back in whatever state you're in. All she does is fucking cry! Have you met her? Nymphadora does not cry! She's miserable without you and I can't take it anymore. She _loves_ you. You're extremely lucky and you're just throwing it away."

"I just...I don't deserve her. I'm a monster."

"No you're an idiot." Ted said quite seriously, "Remus, I'm sick of the running. You can't hide anymore and your kids due in six months. I'm not dealing with her mood swings. That's your job. Now get up, get your shit together, and get over yourself. She loves you and you love her. Stop thinking about it."

Remus reluctantly stood up, still a little wobbly from the alcohol. He dejectedly flicked his wand around the room, collecting his belongings in a leather trunk. Then he turned back to his wife's father.

"I am an idiot. But I just don't know what to do, Ted. I know I'm bad for her and I just feel like I'm ruining her life."

"You are."

"Wh-what?"

"You are. You're ruining her life by thinking like that, Remus. When you take off on her like you do every five minutes, a little piece of her breaks. She can only take so much. It's only a matter of time before she shatters completely. Please, don't let it get to that point. Come with me when we can still put the pieces back together." Ted Tonks was pleading.

He just wanted his daughter to be happy and he liked Remus. He really did. He was just an idiot sometimes. He was causing his Dora pain and it needed to stop. He couldn't stand her being upset. Her hair was always dull brown. It was depressing. And if Lupin was going to make her happy, well he'd get him back. Whatever it took.

"You know I love her and I'm not meaning to hurt her, right?"

"I know."

"And that the only reason I'm doing this is because I thought it was best for her."

"I know."

"And that I want her so badly, but I just feel like I'm completely unworthy."

"I know."

"And that it makes me want to jump off a building that I've caused her so much pain and not even realized it and that I've gotten her into this whole mess and that she still loves me in spite of it. Even though I don't deserve it at all and I just-"

"Remus," Ted laid a warm hand on Mr. Lupin's arm, "_I know_."

Remus took a shaky breathe. And ran his sleeve under his nose. "Let's go put her back together."

**I don't really know if I like this. It's definitely different than all the other ones. There'll be a nice happy one up tomorrow. Pretty please review. I'd really like your feedback.**

**XOXO**


	8. The Father Who Kills Boyfriends

**Thank you so much to all of you. I love each and every one of you.**

Noah Gilligan found Lily Potter's hand under the table. He was literally shaking.

Meeting your girlfriend's parents was scary enough. It was even scarier when her father was one of the most well known wizards ever and could very easily turn the entire wizarding world against you or with a flick of his wand blow you into a million pieces.

Lily gave his hand a quick squeeze.

Noah thought he was going to lose the delicious dinner Mrs. Potter had just fed him.

Dinner had gone okay, albeit a little awkward. Noah had checked all the blocks. He'd brought flowers and cookies. He offered to help clean the dishes and he'd complimented on "how lovely their home was." Ginny and Harry were trying to make the clearly shaking boy feel at ease, but James and Albus were thwarting their efforts. They'd grilled him the entire dinner, asking him obscure questions about their sister, that Lily herself wouldn't even have been able to answer.

Harry pushed his chair back from the table, setting his napkin down. "Noah, why don't we go take a walk?"

Noah stared at him in awe. Sometimes it just hit him that he was dating Harry Potter's daughter, that her dad was the greatest wizard of all time. But, of course that had nothing to do with his love for Lily. Tons of boys were out to get with her because of her last name, but Noah honestly just loved her for her. Having to put up with the pressure of being Harry's daughter had made Lily tough and rather sassy at times, but deep down she was a sweet kid.

Noah was muggle-born and he hadn't even _heard _of Harry Potter until he had gone to Hogwarts. Naturally at school, especially with Albus in his grade, you _had_ to know who Harry Potter was. They learned about him in History of Magic and every year when they had the memorial service for those who had died in the war someone would get up and talk about him. Even if it had been twenty-seven years, the _Daily Prophet _still did at least an article a month on the "Golden Trio."

Noah was always friends with Albus, just not best. Albus had Scorpius and Rose and he wasn't really looking for anyone else, especially when half the grade just wanted to be his friend because of his last name. The Potters had to be really careful about making friends. Plus Al was in Slytherin and he was in Hufflepuff. They were the type of friends who you would invite to a party, but not to come over all by themselves. They were potions partners in fifth year, failing with dignity together and when Noah's mother had died Albus had bought him half of Honeydukes. But now that he was dating his little sister, things had changed.

"Of course, sir." Noah hopped out of his chair, reluctantly releasing Lily's hand.

"Can we come too, Dad?" Albus and James asked at the same time. Lily gave her oldest brother a hard kick under the table and he shut up, his eyes watering.

The two Potter boys were none too happy about their sweet, seventeen year old sister dating someone _Albus's _age. It was preposterous and completely ridiculous. It shouldn't be allowed. She was just a baby.

"No, boys, you may not." Harry smiled softly at his sons.

Honestly he felt pretty awful for Noah. The poor kid looked incredibly nauseous and he hadn't even said anything to him. He kept running his hands through his wavy brown hair and a blush had crept it's way up to his freckled cheeks and stayed there for most of dinner

Noah followed Mr. Potter out of the kitchen. James threw a roll at the back of his head. Noah turned around, bright red, and grinned weakly. Lily glared icily at her brothers.

James and Albus scared him much more than Harry did.

"Here's your coat, Noah. It's a little chilly." Harry tossed Noah his jacket, pulling on his.

Godric's Hollow was especially pretty in the winter, or at least Harry thought. It didn't snow often but it had last week and the neighborhood was full of snowmen and snow angels. The Potter and Weasley children had taken to sledding down the hill in their backyard, and they were always up for some Quidditch in the snow. It looked like something out of a Christmas card.

Harry shoved his hands into his pockets as they walked down the sidewalk. "So Noah, I've heard a lot about you."

"Me too, Mr. Potter, sir. I uh mean from Lily, not from uh history books and stuff. But I mean I know about you from those too! It's not like I didn't pay attention in class or-"

"It's okay, Noah," Harry smiled softly at him.

Noah was twenty, but Harry couldn't help but feel like he looked like helpless five year old as he stumbled through his responses to Harry's questions. He was clearly nervous out of his mind and Harry wanted to put him at ease. Plus, he was sure that James and Albus would, if they hadn't already, give him the scariest talk of his life. His boys were very protective of Lily. Harry had never had to go through much of "a talk" with Mr. Weasley, and honestly he didn't really want to put Noah through one either.

"I'm very nervous, Mr. Potter, sir." Noah grinned weakly, shoving his hands into the pockets of his coat.

"I can tell," Harry gave a light chuckle, "I promise I'm not as frightening as you think. Just because I'm 'the boy who lived' doesn't mean I'm 'the father who kills boyfriends.' I think you're a good kid and I think you're a good influence on Lil. We all know she's a little...sneaky."

"Very manipulative," Noah agreed, shaking his head vigorously.

"Extremely. She's not very nice really," Harry gave a little chuckle.

"She's just sassy," Noah smiled softly, thinking of Lily and her fiery temper. The way she would flick her long mane of orange hair over her shoulder and cross her arms when he said something she disagreed with. "And opinionated."

"But you're very nice, aren't you, Noah?"

"Er...I guess so," Noah blushed redder.

Harry's only worry was that Noah was _too _nice for Lily. She got bored very easily and Noah looked like the type of kid who had his heart easily broken.

"And you're a healer?"

"That's right, Mr. Potter."

"Well," Harry slung an arm around Noah's shoulders as they finished their loop and approached the Potter's house, "I think you complement my Lily and I don't have a problem with you, in fact I think I might have to have a talk with Lily about being nice to _you_."

Noah laughed nervously and grinned weakly as he stamped the snow off his boots before entering the house.

"Now it's our turn, Dad." James and Albus stood in the living room, their wands out, dressed entirely in black. James had even gone to the extent of putting a washable tatoo on his left bicep, which bulged in a way that made Noah want to throw up.

Noah gulped.

The "boy who lived" was nothing compared to his sons.

**Please review. I love you all so much.**

**XOXO**


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